


Silence

by SugarsnapCaely



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye egos - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Burning, Drowning, Gen, Gore, Heavy Angst, Horror, Mentions of War, Psychological Horror, Scars, Scary, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 23:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsnapCaely/pseuds/SugarsnapCaely
Summary: Jameson Jackson finds himself in the clutches of a monster...The question is, can he escape it?





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> BEFORE YOU READ I recommend checking out one of my other story: Ego Origins: The Mute as there are points here that relate back to things mentioned in it.
> 
> Also I apologize. When you get down to the bottom the spacing for paragraphs widens a bit. I think it has something to do with the fact that I pasted that section to my Google Docs from my notes.

The steady drum of rain hitting the roof echoes through the house. The beat wrapping around the living room provided a sense of calm. The rhythm followed a hand as it placed a card down in its game of solitaire. The hand belonged to Jameson Jackson as he sat on the couch.

A pair of footsteps came down the hall and James heard the sound of Henrik muttering, “...keys, vallet...I sink zat is everysing.” Henrik turned to the couch, addressing him. “Are you sure you can handle sings by yourself?”

James frowned and him, putting his hands on his hips.

The doctor put his hands up, “Sorry, sorry! I’m just a bit nervous is all…”

James smiled as he rolled his eyes. Honestly, he could handle things on his own. He was an adult. Besides, if he could handle the fact that the _Internet_ was a thing (even if it sometimes scared him), he could handle anything.

“Vell, iff you need any help just text any of us, okay?”

He smiled, nodding his head and Henrik walked out the door. James looked back down at his game, picking up another card and placing it. He closed his eyes briefly as he listened to the rain. It was a sound he always enjoyed and he recalled jumping in puddles when he was younger.

The water would arch up and onto his trousers but he never minded. He always loved how every splash made a unique shape; similar but never the exact same. He would laugh as he made another running start toward another puddle.

He was pulled from his memories as he heard the sound of shuffling feet from the hall. He peered over the back of the couch and saw Robbie making his way over. The zombie had not been here long, only about a month, and much like him, he still had a lot to learn about the world.

He smiled at the zombie, waving his hand to him. When Robbie made it to the front of the couch James patted the seat next to him.

Robbie sat down and hugged a pillow, “Hi...Jay…”

A speech bubble appeared over James’s head, “ **_How are you?_ ** ”

The zombie blinked his milky-white eyes as he read the words and thought of an answer. “Don’t...know…” James nodded in understanding, going back to his game.

A flash of light silhouetted the window followed by a loud crash of thunder. Robbie yelped, curling up on the couch and attempting to hide behind the pillow. “Robbie scared...Rain loud.”

James scooted closer to Robbie and gave him a hug. He felt his decaying muscles relax. “ **_Better?_ ** ”

Robbie snuggled closer like a child. “Uh-huh.”

“ **_Do you want to watch a movie?_ ** ”

Robbie’s eyes brightened. “Movie...Robbie like movie.”

James smiled, giving him another squeeze. “ **_Do you want to pick?_ ** ”

Robbie squinted, trying to make out the words. “Robbie...pick?”

James nodded. Robbie stood up from the couch and walked over to the movie shelf, still clutching the pillow. He watched Robbie rummage through the shelf, prepared to help him if he needed it.

“Got!” The zombie held up a movie: _The Land Before Time_. James recognized that one. It was one Chase had shown him once when introducing him to the movies of the 20th and 21st centuries. He had liked it, and he had the feeling Robbie would too.

He helped him put the movie in (thankful he remembered how this time) and the two of them sat back down on the couch.

“Papa Jamie?” A small voice echoed through the air. Before long the tiny translucent figure of a child floated in front of them.

The figure was known as Estelle. She had short, straight hair that flowed about her head like water. She had two antene that protruded from her hair and bounced as she did. Her waist tapered off into a tail that curled behind her. A golden glow surrounded her form.

She looked up at James, her hands fiddling in front of her. “May I join?”

James smiled warmly at her, “Of course you can.”

Estelle beamed, growing to the normal size of a child and snuggling up to his other side. “Thank you.”

He nodded, putting an arm around her.

Although James was not Estelle’s father she still insisted on calling him Papa Jamie. In reality, he had no idea where she had come from. She had taken residence in the pocket watch he owned ever since he found it. It wasn’t until about a month after his arrival that she introduced herself for she had been too scared before then.

In fact, she was the reason he was even here and that he had these cartoon-ish abilities. Neither of them knew how it worked though, sometimes coming and going at random. Hopefully they could learn something from Marvin or at least learn to control it.

He sighed as he settled into the couch and pressed play.

* * *

 

They finished their third movie and Robbie yawned. James took this as a sign and pulled out his pocket watch. “ **_Golly, it’s late!_ ** ” James stretched his arms over his head. “ **_I think we should all get some shuteye._ ** ”

Estelle nodded, blinking her eyes sleepily. She floated to the pocket watch. “Goodnight, Papa Jamie.” She hugged him and disappeared into the tiny clock.

James stood up from the couch, picking up the watch. He made sure Robbie got to bed before heading to his own room.

His room was a decent size: not too large and not too small. It was cozy, just the way he liked it. The furniture consisted of antiques that he had found or the others had given him. It made him feel more at home, adding to the overall comfort. There were only a few items that were more modern. There was the bed of course, but there was also a bean-bag chair in the corner. They were so comfy.

James walked over to his dresser and pulled out his pajamas. He unbuttoned his vest and dropped it into the basket next to his mirror. He pulled off his shirt and hissed as a tag rubbed against a certain part of his back. He turned his head to look at it in the mirror.

A long pink scar ran along his shoulder blades. It had been there since he arrived alongside his various other wounds. Henrik had said they would heal in time. This had proven true for the cuts and even the burns; the tissue was either healing or a scar had formed.

He was worried about his back though. While a scar had started to form at the edges he swore it stung just like the day he had gotten it. In fact, it seemed to hurt worse at night, making it difficult to sleep sometimes. He was probably just paranoid. The result of a nervous imagination.

James put is PJ’s on and stretched. Yawning, he walked over to his bed and set the pocket watch down on the nightstand. He crawled under the covers and made himself comfortable. With the sound of the rain in his ears he drifted off into slumber.

* * *

 

James stirred as he woke up, feeling stiff. He must have slept in an odd position if that was the case. He moved to stretch his arms.

He couldn’t move.

His eyes snapped open as he desperately tried to move. He couldn’t see very well in the dark, but he could feel that he was tied to a chair. His eyes darted about in a panic. Where was he?

A bright light flashed on, blinding him, and he heard a sound like the buzzing of flies. He opened his eyes and was met with two different smiles: one was filled with sharp, dangerous teeth; the second was flowing red; both were wide and unnerving. His gaze moved up and met two glowing, green eyes.

They were hungry.

And he was scared.

“W̴̡e͏̕l̨̛l, l̡͜͞o̵͟ǫ̵͢͠k w͟͞͠ho f͏͟͏͘i̶̵̴͝n̵͜a͜l̢̢͘͜l̡͟y͡ d͟e̡̡c̷͡i̵̧̛dȩ̸̛d t̢͞o̕͢ wak̨͠͝e̢͜͞ ų̶̧͠p͡.” The voice was filled with wasps. The sound made him wince; it was like nothing he’d heard before.

“ **_W-who are you?_ ** ” James asked.

The figure stepped back, allowing James to see more of them. The figure wore all black: a t-shirt and pants covered in rips and holes. Their hair was an unnaturally green color with brown at the sides. And now that he wasn’t so disoriented he could see something that shocked him.

They had the same face.

Granted, the hair was different and there was no mustache, but sure enough they looked alike.

“W̢͏̷̕e̛l̷͢͝͝l̢, i̕̕sņ̸͝͏’t t̶͞h̷͏̴a҉̕t c̷̵̕͞u̢r̨͝i̢͢͞o͘͏us.” The man poked at something above his head. James looked up at the speech bubble.

“H̸̷̨͏o̸̢͟͡w̡̛ d͡͏i҉d th̴̶̛at̶͢͡ g̸̛e͏t̷̴ t͟h̵̸̨͡ȩ̶re̸?” The figure asked.

James shook his head; he had no idea how that had gotten there.

“N̵͠o͘w͟, to̢͢ a̷͡n̴s҉w̵̧͟͢er yo͟͠u̴r qu̵̶̴͢e͏͠͏s̶̶̢͘t̨͞i͟on…Y҉̷͢͞o҉͏u’l͝҉͘͜l̸ k̶̛͘͞n͘͏̢o̡͞w̴̧ i̡͡n͟҉ d̨͢ue̡̕͢ t͝͝i͢͞m͘e̴̛͟.” The man gave a laugh, the pitch dropping.

James shuddered; the voice gave him chills. It was simply unnatural. _Everything_ about him was unnatural.

Suddenly, the man twitched, tiny dots surrounding him, causing James to jump. He yelped as the binding pulled at his arms. Looking down he saw that it was not rope, but a sort of red string made of god-knows-what.

“ **_What...what do you want with me?_ ** ” James watched as his captor paced, gulping down the tension in his throat.

The person—no, it wasn’t a person—the _thing_ stopped, turning its head to look at him. It giggled, twitching again. “A̢̢ll͏̢ I̡͏̷ w̵̢͜͢ą̶͜nt i̷̴ş̕ t̢o̷ g̷̷͝et̢ to̵͠͡ kn͏̵̧͡ow̧͢ y̶͏̸o̵̢͢͠u. W̴͢͟el̴̢͞l͜͝…a͡͝t lȩa̸̶͟͡st͜ m̴̵̢͡ǫre̡͘͢͡ t͘ha̷̕͝n I̛̕͜͏ ąļ̛̕r̸̛ea͢͝͝d̛͢y d̨͟͟͏o, Ja̵̛mę͝͞s͠͡҉o̸̧̡n̶̕͢͞ J̧a̴̧c̸̶̡k͟͡͞son̴̕͡.”

James stared as the monster moved closer, towering over him in the chair. A chill went down his spine as a large, sharp knife appeared in its hand. Instinct took over and he tried to flatten himself in the chair. The monster came within a few inches of his face and he could smell the copper.

The monster grinned, growling in his ear, “L̢̡e͏͏t̡͢’ş̸ h̴̡͞a͟v̷͘e̸ s̛͏̶͝om̴̡̕e͝ f̷u͟͞n̡.”

James’s breath hitched and he shut his eyes as the tip of the knife dug into a spot on his forearm. The sting moved down, spreading out like a puddle on the ground, and making him squirm. He tried to pull away, only making it worse. He breathed through clenched teeth, watching as the monster pulled the knife, dripping in his own blood, away from his arm.

He barely registered the slashes to his leg and check, only feeling the pain spread out. He dared not open his eyes, afraid the pain would spread there too.

His eyes were forced open, “P̶̧͜a̴y a̸̧̡t͘͜t̷e̛n̴͘t̶͏i͡o̧҉n̵̢͜ p̛̛͡͞upp҉̵̧̛et.” The monster frowned at him, its eyes black as tar. “I̡̨ w̡a̷n̴t̢̨̢͜ y̴o͟u͟ t̢͝͡ơ s̴͞ee̢͏ o̡̕͠u̡͢͜r g̴̨͢a̵҉m̧̢͠҉e̷̕͠͠.”

His head slammed back against the chair as the knife sliced on his shin. He watched it assault his leg like someone walking through quicksand, slowing down and sinking deeper as it went.

Tears trickled from his eyes, his mouth open in a silent cry as he stared at bloody shin. It shook and vibrated and trembled and longed for relief.

The monster stepped back to admire its handiwork. It beamed as it observed James’s distress. “T̷̡oo ba͢҉͠҉d͟ no̢͏ o̴̧͟͠n҉̕͝ȩ̕͞ c͝a̷͏̸n h̵̷̛ę̕a͡҉͡r̸̸̕ yo̧͟u̸̢̡͟ c͘͟al̨͏l̛͜ f͏͏͘or͘͠ h̛̛͞el̶̕͞͝p̡̛͡,” the monster growled, “I̕ g̨͏u͘͢͝es̴s̕͏ you̴̵͞ s͠͡ḩ̛͞oų̵̛͢l̵̡̧d͝n’t h̡̢av̵̸͘͞e̢͡ bee̕͢͜͝n҉̴͢͝ b̴̡͢y y͝҉o̶̴̕͝u̡̕r̛̕͠s͟el̷̕f͜.” It circled James, making him flinch as he felt the flat edge of the bloodstained blade against his skin.

“A̢͏fţ̛̕͏e͏̶͠ra̡ll, pu̵͘̕p̢͟p҉e͜t̸͞s c̴̶͝a̵͠n̡’t d̶ǫ an̡y̧͜͡t͏̛͟͝h̷i̷͝n͢g o̡̨͘͢n҉̛͝͠ t͘h̵͘e͘iŗ̴̧͟ o̧͏̷͡w҉͟͢n̷̛͜…” The monster flicked one of the red strings, making them constrict his body.

“Y̕o̷̵̢̨u̧͜ k͟͞҉n͡͠o̴̡̧͞w͠, sp̷̧͢e̡ak̴͟͜in̨͞͞g̕ ơ̵̢f pu͏̧p͢p̛͠͡et͝͠s̛…” The monster stepped in front of James, giving him a sidelong stare. “I̶̡’v͢e̴̷̴͞ se͠e̢̛͜͞n̨͘͟͠ t͜ha̢̕͢t̵͟͡ s̨̕͢͡om̵̛͡e̴̴̛ p͏̨͘e͟op͡l̢e҉ l͞͡͞͡ik̷͠e͝ ţo͏̡ t̨hi̕͟͞͝n̸̢͜͟k̕͠͏͝ o̷̧̢̧f͢͏ yo̷̸̵̢u̧͜ a̷̢͏s a̸̧͞ l҉i̧͏͡ttl̕͟e͜ wo̶o̸d̶͟en p̡͘up͘͝p̵e̕͏͜͡t.”

James was confused. What was the monster talking about? Why would people think of him as a puppet? And even more nerve wracking was wondering where the monster was going with this.

“I̷̵̕ w̴̴̛o̶̕̕͢nḑer͠͠ i̴͟͡f t̷͢͝h̢̨e̵̢y̷ w̢͞e̛͜r҉͏e͏̸͝ r̷i͡g̕͟͏̡ht̴.” The monster’s eyes glowed, and it gave James its crocodile smile. Suddenly, something began to glow in his hand, the knife having disappeared. “L͘e̸̡t̡’s s̵̡e̡͏҉e̴ if̸͟͟ you̡’r̨͝e͠͏ mad̢ȩ̛ o̶̡̧f̡͘ w̢͡oo̷͘ḑ͠.”

Black flames flowed from the monster’s hand.

“L̡̡̛͘et͠’s̛ s̶̨̕͟ee i̵̢f̷ y̢͠҉͟ou̴͘ b̴̸͘u̵r҉͠n͝.”

The pain tore through James’s hand, crashing it’s way up his arm and to his head. It started to fog his brain, making him see white.

His hand clenched and unclenched like some creature trying to escape. The red string tightened in his struggle.

His vision came back and he saw his skin bleeding, bubbling, smoking, dying.

He let out a pathetic, voiceless whimper and the monster laughed. It latched onto his shoulder and held.

It held and held and held.

James’s vision faded from white to black.

* * *

 

James gasped, sitting up in the dark. His breath came in wheezing gasps as he tried to get his bearings. It was pitch black and he couldn’t see a thing.

He wobbled to his feet, afraid he would not be able to stand. When he found that he could he felt around for a wall. He had to get out of here. He had to get out of here and go home.

His hands hit a wall. It felt round and uneven. As he rubbed his hands over it he identified the material to be stone. Feeling the hope rise in his chest he followed the wall.

As he walked along the edge of the wall he heard the sound of dripping. It echoed off the stones. He wondered if it was a way out, yet he did not want to move away from the stone. So, he turned away from the sound and continued.

The dripping picked up speed as he continued to walk. One of the drops landed on his face as he looked up. Only he realized it was not water; it was thick and sticky.

The strong scent of copper invaded his nostrils. He gagged, feeling his heart rise to his throat. Keeping his hand on the wall he ran, trying to get away as the dripping turned to rushing.

He felt the blood run over his hand as it ran down the wall. He yanked his hand away, panicking, and regretted it instantly. He couldn’t find the wall anymore and ran blindly.

The blood started to soak his shoes. Panic overtook him; it was lightning, coursing through his veins hot and electric. It propelled him forward and he sprinted as hard as he could. He could hear his feet splashing, echoing against the stone he could not find.

His foot slipped out from under him and he fell to the ground. The blood pooled and rushed around him as it rose. It wanted to consume him.

He tried to stand but his feet could no longer touch the floor. He floated, trying to stay above the surface. The blood was too thick as it rose over his head.

His arms flailed about in a panic as he desperately tried to find the surface. He could not tell where he was, his senses numb to the viscous fluid. The only thing he felt was the growing ache and burn in his chest. The feeling crawled its way up to his throat, begging him against all odds to let go.

Bubbles floated past his face, the air finally escaping him. He felt his body go limp and his nose stung as blood seeped its way in. It filled his lungs, making them burn.

He felt his mind sinking, sinking, sinking.

* * *

 

James gasped, feeling oxygen fill him. He coughed and wheezed and gagged. There was nothing in his throat. It was dry. He cried out as the pain from his injuries came back all at once.

Bile threatened to climb up his throat, but he pushed it back down. Not now. He didn’t want to have anything in his mouth, afraid it would drown him.

“T̡̕͟h̴͢͟at̴̢͞ w͜͝a͡͝s a go̸̶͟͡ǫ̴͠d w̢̡͜a̸̷̧rm͜ u̴̵̢͡p̡̕͝.” The monster leaned over him, smiling.

Had the monster done that to him? Had it been real? Or was it merely a nightmare? Either way, the monster’s presence continued to bore down on him making him shudder again.

“W̨͟͢h̨y d̡͘͢͡o͘n’t̷̕͝ w҉e t̛̕͜͏r̨y̧̛̕ s̕͏o̕҉m͟et͞h͏͘͟҉i̸̛ng͢͝͝ e̛͢lse͏?” The monster tilted its head, twitching, as if it were actually asking a question. James knew though that he had no say in anything anymore.

“Ho̴̡̕w͝ a̷b͟͞o̷̢͠u̡ţ̶͜ w̧҉̢e̴ ma̸̧̡k͘͜e̷ i̛t̴͘ m͏̸̛҉or͟͠͠͞e̸̡͠…” The monster was in James’s face again and he could feel its hot breath. “ _Pȩ҉r̵̢͜s̛̛͡͞onal…_ ” The monster hissed and another shudder wracked through his frame.

The monster’s hand grabbed his throat and his world darkened once more.

* * *

 

James stood in the dark again, blind to the world around him. All was quiet until a thunderous boom sounded in the dark. The sound was muffled, almost as if it came from outside a room. Another boom made itself known. The ground shook, causing James to stumble as dirt and dust rained on his head.

Then it hit him.

They were bombs and he was in his aunt’s basement. He had to find his aunt. He looked around the vast darkness. He wanted to call out to her but he had no voice. He wanted to cry.

There was another explosion and the ground rumbled. He stumbled backward, falling into a pit. He was no longer in the basement.

His eyes widened with fear. He was in what he could only assume was a trench. The strong scent of death permeated the air and he gagged on it. His hand brushed up against something and he jumped, turning to look at it.

He saw the corpse of his older cousin staring at him. He was horribly mangled. One of his legs was missing, having been blown away by god-knows-what. The right eye dangled from its socket like a fish on a hook. Chunks of flesh were missing from his arm and torso almost as if they had been bitten off.

James backpedaled away from the body that had once been his cousin. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to shut his eyes and look away but he couldn’t stop staring.

His head snapped to the sound of someone screaming. It was a voice he had not heard for a long time now. James looked at his screaming father. He was crouched on the ground, his hands over his head, almost in a corner.

James knew this scene. It was one his father did often. James watched; watched like he always did. Watched and did nothing for there was nothing he could do. Watched like the worthless child he was.

A shudder wracked through him, forcing him to look down. He screamed, his uncle’s horrible picture flashing in his mind.

Large holes riddled his now bare feet.

* * *

 

Reality flooded back to James and he vomited, hearing that wicked, buzzing laugher. His shoulders shuddered as he cried. Why couldn’t he just go home?

“W͡h̡̨a̡t̷’s̴ w̴̴̷r̢̨̢͜o̴n͟g͟ p̢͝͡ưp̴͞pe̢͏t̡̕͠? D̡͢͜id̴̨͢ t̵҉hat̷̸ ư̢p̴̧͟͠s҉̕͝ȩ̕͞t͝ y̸̷̢̨o̶͟u̷͏̸?” The voice mocked him as James kept his head down. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. His hope had fled a long time ago.

“Lo͞҉̛ơ̵̷k̨̕ a͡҉͡t m̧͟e̸̢̡͟ w͘͟h̨̛̛҉ȩ͜҉n̨̢̛ Į͏ t̛͜a͏͏͘lk͘͠ t̛̛͞o y̶̕͞͝o̸̧͠ư̷, p̡̛͡u̕p̨͏p͘͢͝et̴!” James gritted his teeth as the monster forced his head up. James stared into those cruel, burning eyes knowing their hunger: their hunger for his suffering. They could never be satisfied.

James continued to stare as the monster’s knife appeared once more. The monster raised it before those eyes gleamed, the smile soon following it, as an idea was formed.

"Y̴̡o͏̕ų̛ kn̡͜͞o̵͟w̵̨͢͠ wh͟͞͠at?" The monster said as James shuddered in his chair. "Į t̨͢͠h̷i͏͟͏͘n̶̵̴͝k̵͜ w͜e̢̢͘͜ s̡͟h͡o͟u̡̡l̷͡ḑ̵̛ ma̸̧̛ke̸̶̢ th̶̷̸͝is̢͞ m̕͢orę͠͝… _i̢͜͞n͡ter̡̧̨̢e̕̕ş̸͝͏ti̶͞n̢g_."

  
With that horrid sound of insects he was suddenly tied down on the floor; his shirt was gone. He struggled even though he knew it was pointless.

  
The monster was on top of him now, it's hand digging into his shoulder. He saw the glint of the knife as the monster brought it down slowly.

  
The knife was pushed into his chest, just below the shoulder.

  
He heard himself scream. He had a voice. Somehow he had a voice.

  
The monster giggled, "A̴̡h҉̢h͏̕, m̨̛us̡͜͞i̵͟c̵̨͢͠ to͟͞͠ my ęą͢͠r̷s͏͟͏͘!" The knife tore down at an angle to his lungs. He was still screaming. He was not drowning in his own blood. None of this was natural. None of this was right!  
The knife was brought up to his throat, and it pushed again.

  
Pain.

  
Pain.

  
_Pain_.

  
_Pain_.

  
_PAIN_.

  
_PAIN_.

  
P̶̵̴͝A̵͜I͜N̢̢͘͜.

  
He wanted it to end.

  
He wanted to die.

  
The monster wouldn't let him. The monster would _never_ let him.

  
All at once, it stopped. Everything stopped. James's screaming started to die down into hoarse sobs and whimpers.

  
This was it, he was going to stay here. He was going to stay here forever as this monster's toy. To be played with whenever it wanted and to be tossed out when it got bored. This is where is life ended.

  
His vision was cloudy, and he felt himself being turned over onto his stomach.

  
"D̴̡o҉̢n͏̕'t̨̛ th̡͜͞i̵͟n̵̨͢͠k I'm dǫn̨͢͠e̷ w͏͟͏͘i̶̵̴͝t̵͜h͜ y̢̢͘͜o̡͟u͡ y̡̡e̸҉͢t̡̧ p̷͡ư̵̧pp̸̧̛et."

  
James barely registered the voice over him. He was so tired.

  
"I̢͞ s̕͢til̨͠͝l̢͜͞ h̶̨̧͠a͡ve a̡̧̨̢ g̢͏̷̕i̢ft̕̕ to̸̧͝͏ g̶͞iv̷̵̕͞ę y͏̸o̢ų͝…"

  
A what…He received his answer as a sharp pain dug into his back. It burned and he found what little voice he still had screaming once more. He could feel the cuts being made.  
They were letters.

  
A

  
N

  
T

  
I

  
James's body quaked, watching the monster covered in his own blood come into his vision. "N̢͢͞o͘͏w in t͟h̸̷̨͏e̴̶͟ dar̴̶̛k̸̛n͜ess̴̸͜ ơ͟͝͠f͟ ni̶͢͡g̸̛h͏t̷̴ ę̵̸͡v̶̧er̸y͘͡͡͏o̶̶͜n̵͠e͘ w͟il̢͢l̷͡ k̴n҉o̵̧͟͢w you͟͠ b̴elo̵̶̴͢n͏͠͏g̶̶̢͘ t̨͞o͟ _m̴̵͞e͠͡_."

  
James's vision began to fade. He saw the glimmering of the watch and reached out for it.

  
"S҉̷͢͞e̕̕͝͠e̴͏̧̕ y͝o҉͏u s͝҉͘͜o͠o̸n̶̛͘͞," the monster finally said as James touched the pocket watch and slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

James bolted up in his bed, gasping in a silent yell. He was drenched in sweat. He wrapped his arms around his body and shuddered. In a decision of haste he stood up from bed and turned on the light. Slowly, he looked at his body.

  
The only evidence of wounds were the scars that had been there since he had arrived. At first he was relieved it had been a nightmare. But then, the dream had seemed so real. Almost too real…  
His mind raced. He started to put pieces together. But it had been just a dream, it had to have been a dream! His breath quickened and he dug his hands in his hair.

  
"Papa Jamie?"

  
James jumped at the sound of Estelle's voice.

  
She shrunk for a moment, "S-sorry. Are you ok Papa Jamie?"

  
James reluctantly nodded, "I…I'm alright."

  
She nodded too. "Can…can I sleep with you?"

  
James nodded, a weak smile forming on his face. She had no idea how happy he was to hear that. He walked back over to the bed as Estelle landed on it, clutching a pillow.  He lied down next to her and soon enough she was asleep.

  
James was anything but. He had calmed down some, but his mind continued to buzz. The matter of his voice bothered him more than anything. He had been sure he never had one, and yet he had one at one point in the dream. Was he for certain with his life anymore? He was sure he had never spoken vocally before.

  
One question irked at his mind as he tried his best to close his eyes.

  
Had he forgotten, or was he just too afraid to remember? 

**Author's Note:**

> H͘͏̢a̡͞p̴̧p̡͡y͟҉ B̨͢i̷͝rt̡̕͢h͝͝d͢͞a͘y̴̛͟ J̢̢am͏̢e̡͏̷s̵̢͜͢


End file.
